


Pretty Little Thing

by CigsAndWhiskey



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Banter, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley and Aziraphale being Crowley and Aziraphale, Cunnilingus, Edgeplay, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Not Beta Read, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 14:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CigsAndWhiskey/pseuds/CigsAndWhiskey
Summary: Aziraphale thinks that Crowley is a pretty little thing. The angel and demon share one brain cell, and neither of them have it when they’re gazing at each other in love (or lust). Crowley is definitely shy while making love (getting f'd). Not beta’d, and format is a little wonky, but I hope you enjoy what it is nonetheless? Maybe I'll fix it up a bit someday. I do use the word "cunt" in here, just a FYI.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 173





	Pretty Little Thing

Crowley felt warmth ripple up his body as he gripped at the sheets. Feeling lightheaded, he gasped for air, and attempted to ride out another wave of pleasure. He felt gooey, like honey, as he flushed from his cheeks, down to his chest. His blood was singing in his veins, white hot, but not enough to succumb himself to the high he was chasing. Crowley sighed, more out of frustration than pleasure. He leaned into the crux of Aziraphale’s shoulder, and mouthed at the angel’s neck, smelling of fresh aftershave. Said angel was underneath the demon, as Crowley laid on his back against his lover’s chest. 

Aziraphale didn’t need to shave, but he enjoyed the pleasure of a blade, freshly laid against his skin, and the splash of burning alcohol to soothe. He may have also enjoyed Crowley seeking out the smell of it, as he got closer to his body. Said demon was already smoothing out his right hand against Aziraphale’s arm, stroking upwards until he reached the angel’s short, blonde curls. He grasped a handfull and tilted the angel’s head upwards, revealing more of Aziraphale’s neck to mouth against. 

Crowley moaned softly as he embraced the body below him, spreading himself out further on the plush frame of his angel. His spine pressed into Aziraphale’s stomach and chest, bony and sharp. Crescent moon shapes littered the principality’s side where the serpent had held him earlier. A sheen of sweat on his upper lip, Crowley smeared it against his angel’s cheek and sighed as he came down, so close to the edge, but not quite there. Aziraphale lay beneath the demon, whispering sweet nothings into Crowley’s ear while two poised, dexterous fingers fluttered slowly in and out of Crowley’s cunt. They pushed in, and then out. In and out. In and out. Crowley couldn’t decide if he wanted to push onto, or away, from the fingers. His clit throbbed, utterly abandoned as Aziraphale played with his pussy. He was frustrated, and embarrassed by how wet he sounded.

Crowley gasped at the humiliation, his pleasure beginning to rise again, despite Aziraphale’s fingers doing nothing different. Aziraphale thumbed at his nipple, soothing the burning in Crowley’s blood. Aziraphale’s right arm pushed flush against Crowley’s belly as he removed his fingers and stroked Crowley’s cunt briefly with his pinky, and laid it between his arse. The feeling became overwhelming. Crowley felt as if he would die. Azriaphale had been teasing for what felt like an hour, and neither of them had cum yet. He pushed his fingers back in, slowly.

“Angel…Azira!” He trailed off and pushed out the air in his lungs to relax. “I can’t. I really can’t.”

Aziraphale cooed as he continued to piston his index and middle fingers inside of Crowley. “You can,” he reassured, voice dripping in lust, “Do you hear yourself dear? You’re so wet. It’s dripping down my hand and your thighs.” To further illustrate his point, the angel slipped out and rubbed the lips with his lovemaking, before delving back in.

Crowley looked scandalized as his eyes opened wide. Without his sunglasses, he felt very vulnerable. The demon and angel had had sex before. Many times. And without his sunglasses. But this time, the angel wanted to do things different. Without his glasses, it was just another way to make Crowley feel  _ humiliation _ . 

“Angel! Don’t ssssay things like that! It’s indecsssent,” his words became stuck in his throat and he scrunched his nose in discomfort. It was hot when the angel got like this. The bastard was ever full of surprises. He felt himself drip from his cunt, as the angel began to pump a little more quickly. It increased the wet sounds and Crowley grew hot in embarrassment. “Bessssidessss, it’s not ssssexy,” he tried. Crowley needed relief, but dammed if he would hurt his pride by it first. If Aziraphale continued, he would probably cum just from his words. Aziraphale laughed quietly, “Honestly, dear, I think your body is betraying you. I think you  _ like  _ this.” Crowley whimpered as his hips grinded upwards into those dexterous fingers. He dug at them, to itch the scratch inside of him that was  _ good,  _ but not  _ enough _ .

The downy hair on the angel’s arm tickled Crowley’s stomach as he sighed in pleasure. It was all Crowley’s fault that he was pinned down, by his angel's devilish hand. Crowley thought he was the tempter, but Aziraphale was a temptation all himself. That devil wanted him to cum only from his two fingers and without touching his clit. _ How impossible, _ Crowley thought. His thoughts were interrupted by his own keen as two knuckles rubbed against his entrance. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. The two of them would be in the bed for hours, chasing Crowley’s pleasure until sunrise at this point. He was growing desperate. 

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s cock twitching on his left thigh, abandoned and leaking. He attempted to reach for it again with his left hand, to tug and play, but Aziraphale swat him away. He then splayed his palm against his own mound, but the angel’s hand grasped his and pinned it to his side on the bed. Crowley growled as he tipped his hips upward. He needed to touch himself. He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to touch his lover. But Aziraphale wanted him to cum alone and slowly. He whined as the angel slowed down his pace again. The fingers barely scraped his walls. He was too wet. The fingers weren’t thick enough. He began to toss his head back and forth. Crowley felt delirious.

“Angel!” he whined, trying to sit up and kiss Aziraphale, but he doubled back down in pleasure. How could he tempt his angel if he couldn’t even kiss him?

“Shhh,” his partner hushed him and his fingers moved all the way out of Crowley’s cunt, the untrimmed fingernails scraping against his swollen, puffy entrance, and pushing in again to the knuckle. Crowley shook with his desire and sighed deeply as the action was repeated. The angel was pulling out his desire with every flick. “I’ve got you dear.” Crowley felt that he might sob. The pleasure was too much and not enough. He felt like his heartstrings were being played to a symphony he was unfamiliar with. It felt like love. He screamed in anger as Aziraphale left him again and rubbed at his mound, deliberately shying away from his clit.

If you ask him, Crowley doesn’t beg. “Angel! Please. Fuck me,” he commanded (begged), trying to pry his sweating hand from the angel’s, who just held it down more firmly. He twisted his hips towards the cock tipping towards his entrance, but Aziraphale just snuggled him closer with his opposite arm, retreating from his pussy and began to kiss into his neck. Crowley’s head lolled from the crux of the angel’s neck, bending a bit away from his lover, gritting his teeth.

“No, dear,” Aziraphale muttered, simply.

“Uhhh,” Crowley replied, stupidly.

Aziraphale ran his nimble fingers through Crowley’s copper bush, destroying any semblance of niceness and neatness that the demon usually displayed, as he squirmed. Crowley was utterly destroyed. Messed Up. Fucked out.

“You’re such a pretty little thing. So good for me.” Crowley shuddered at the praise, but froze as Aziraphale continued his words, running his fingers through the bush, “And this is such a pretty little thing, too.”

Crowley searched his mind for an answer and came up blank, “What is?”

“Your cunt.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but a smile drifted on his face. Aziraphale rubbed up and down his belly and lowered back to his mons, jutting out from slim hips. He tickled the hairs that ran down Crowley’s thighs, unkempt, as per the angel’s request. Just like times in Eden, where shame had not yet existed.

Crowley’s passion had begun to dry on the angel’s hands. Aziraphale rubbed at it, with the pads of his fingers along Crowley’s thigh. He popped his index finger into his mouth, experimentally, smiling at Crowley’s golden, glassy-eyed expression which had followed his every move, as he sucked and licked it clean. He removed it with a pop, a lace trail of saliva following. He gazed lovingly at Crowley, smile beaming brightly, and lighting up his face. His eyes shined in mischief. “Darling, you taste like Eden.”

Crowley left his angel’s face and tossed his arm across his eyes as Aziraphale caught his other hand. His chest and cheeks flushed in embarrassment. The freckles dotting along his skin seemed to light up, like the stars he once hung in the sky. An embarrassed dismissal. “Shut _ up _ , Aziraphale!”

“Oh, but darling, you do,” he whispered into his ear, punctuating it by cooing. “Don’t be shy. I love how expressive your eyes are when we’re like this.”

“Like what?” Crowley asked, too deep in his head to connect the dots and becoming exasperated by the angel’s tawdry line.

“Hmm?” Aziraphale questioned, also half listening, as he started at his fingers, glossy with his spit and Crowley’s slick.

“When we’re like what?”

Aziraphale finally released his vice grip on Crowley’s lithe wrist. The demon splayed his fingers along the sheets, obeying his lover, and keeping them away. The principality slid his hands up the curve of Crowley’s hips, up to his waist, his chest, and stroked the sharpness of his jaw, mapping every curve of his body. Crowley hummed, closing his eyes at the gentleness of it. Cheekily, Aziraphale ran his hands from his jaw and pushed at petal pink lip. He pushed in, playing with the pretty mouth as he continued the conversation, “Oh. You know,” he said nonchalantly, “When we’re fucking.”

Crowley hummed, jaw going slack as the angel rubbed in and out of his lips, mimicking other things that they could be doing. He could taste himself on the angel’s fingers. Like earth and something  _ human. _ Aziraphale stopped his ministrations and slid back down the demon’s bony form, trailing patterns on his ribs. Crowley rolled his eyes as he smirked, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do angel, but you won’t let me.” He fluttered his eyelashes in innocence, wanting to take in the expression that would form on Aziraphale’s face at his boldness. Perhaps sweet talk would help him get what he craved.

“But isn’t this more fun?” Aziraphale countered, acknowledging Crowley’s temptation and choosing to ignore it. He snuggled the demon closer to his chest and sighed, feeling his cock throb, heavy against his lover’s thigh. He wanted Crowley as much as Crowley wanted him, but this was about his lover. He wanted nothing more than to see Crowley go over the edge with just his two fingers. Spreading them, like a snap, as if he were performing a miracle. In due time.

Crowley groaned passively, not knowing where this was going and falling a bit out of the mood, “You’re killing me.” They both stilled.

Aziraphale scoffed. “Don’t be presumptuous. Angel’s don’t kill.”

“You literally almost killed the antichrist?” Crowley offered, a sharp eyebrow raising in disbelief.

The angel huffed as he chose his words carefully. “That’s different,” Aziraphale attempted.

“It isn’t!” 

“It  _ is _ .” 

“Angel,” sharply, wanting to correct him, but smiling instead as he imagined a halo becoming bent above Aziraphale’s head.

“Crowley,” with all his love in his voice, wanting to deflect the other. Aziraphale made his point by sliding further down his belly, thumbing insistently at his jutting hipbones. The bruises would form by tomorrow morning. Fingers splayed at the curve of his mound, underneath the curled hairs. The spark between Crowley’s thighs returned as he squirmed.

“Angel.” A suggestion.

Aziraphale breathed into Crowley’s ear his words, “Beg for it.” A temptation. Crowley gasped, shocked at the other’s boldness. 

“Already did, love.”

“Do it again.”

Not to be outdone, Crowley chose to embrace his favorite pastime. Being a brat. Crowley dropped an octave as he slid his arms along the angel’s sides. “Make me.”

Crowley shuddered as Aziraphale relented and pulled Crowley’s lips open, uncomfortable air hitting the hot skin. The angel cooed as Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel’s wrists. “So sensitive my dear.” Crowley hummed as the angel spread him further and pushed in three fingers, grabbing and pulling Crowley’s left thigh to keep the entrance open. Crowley voluntarily tightened his walls to grip onto the fingers, wanting to keep them in.

“Crowley…relax.” The angel pushed his fingers in again as Crowley squirmed.

“Don’t want you to leave again,” Crowley murmured, becoming shy at his words.

“I have to leave to reenter.”

“ I have to  _ leave  _ to  _ reenter _ ?” Crowley flinched at the slightly-clinical words. “Angel, do you hear yourself?”

Aziraphale ignored him as he sped up the pace. In and out. In and out. Pistoning the fingers faster and faster in and out of Crowley’s cunt. Crowley began to breathe more quickly, searching for air to relax his body or trying to not tense his pussy. He loosely held Aziraphale’s wrist as it moved in and out of him and grasped the angel’s fingers from his thigh. They held hands. Crowley whined as his blood began to sing for him once again.

“Angel this is lovely, but I can’t come from this.”

“Yes you can, my dear. And you will.”

“Ugh.”

“Yes, make more sounds for me dear. I love to hear you.”

Crowley whined as he grinded his hips down, still in an awkward position between waves of pleasure. Tears pricked at his eyes. “I just want you to fuck me,” he hissed. So much for acting put together. Pride? Officially out the window. “Don’t you want that, angel? Don’t you want me to ride your dick to kingdom come? Oh, I can just imagine it now. My pussy dripping over it,” he moaned loudly, clouding his thoughts in pleasure and feeling heightened, “Don’t you want to feel me, love?” 

“My dear, kingdom already came.”

“Just make me cum.”

“Tempting me will not work, and isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Azirphale stopped again. “Get up.”

Crowley roused above him, confused and disoriented. “What?”

“I said, get up. Turn around..”

“Oooh yes. Angel. Please punish me. I’ve been such a bad boy,” he half-mocked.

Azirphale rolled his eyes, as he turned him over and raised his hips up and up. Crowley felt exposed as Aziraphale opened his lips with his fingers. The angel sent kisses down his thighs and sank his mouth into his lover’s cunt.

Crowley gave a moan at the lovely feeling. “Oh darling, please don’t stop.” He whined as the angel made humming noises. 

“Dear, you’re sopping wet.” He grabbed Crowley’s cheeks and pulled them apart, licking up and down his lips. Crowley grinded his ass in Azirphale’s face and sobbed. “Oh somebody. ‘Zira. Please.”

Aziraphale moved his left hand down the demon’s thigh and back up to his clit. There he smoothed over the button firmly as he licked into Crowley’s cunt. He hummed, and removed his mouth, "I figured you need a little help. We'll have to continue this next time." Aziraphale sank back in and pulled lovely sounds out of Crowley. The angel whispered, “Come for me, honey.”

And Crowley came.


End file.
